


just you and him and me and everyone i know

by mushydesserts



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Developing Relationships, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, but a moron, gladio and prompto taking care of each other, he's trying, noctis is a good friend, protective noctis, really just the most inefficient shovel talk in the history of time, tired ignis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-13
Updated: 2017-07-30
Packaged: 2018-10-31 10:32:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 18,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10897524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mushydesserts/pseuds/mushydesserts
Summary: "Now. Help me to understand," Ignis says. "Your two best friends, whom you care about deeply, have begun to date.""Yep.""So you intend to go along with them on said dates, clandestinely monitoring every development in their courtship in order to interfere if things progress too fast for your comfort." Ignis's eyes scour the ceiling, as if trying to recall the details. "And you want me to come along."Noctis looks at Ignis expectantly.(In which Prompto is sunshine, Gladio is lovestruck, and Noctis just wants to make sure his friends are doing okay. Kinkmeme fill, complete.)





	1. The Problem

**Author's Note:**

> For [this prompt.](https://ffxv-kinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/3451.html?thread=3688827)
> 
> Warning: this is gonna be some sorts of ridiculous.

 

"Out with it, Prom. I haven't seen you this worked up since your bike broke and Cindy lent you her wrench set."

Prompto is sitting with his knees drawn up to his chest on Noct's couch. His face is so red it looks like he's been staring at the sun for five days straight. But he looks pleased, and he's definitely seeing someone.

Noctis puts his feet up casually, suspicious but not willing to show it. Prompto has a habit of getting these crushes. Noctis knows from experience that depending on what the person is like, he's going to have to fetch either the popcorn or a crowbar soon.

"Yes? No?" Noctis tries to be flippant.

"Okay, I'm maybe. Maybe seeing someone." Prompto straightens up and squares his shoulders, as if not sure whether to be mortified or proud. "It's just a trial thing! We're not, we're not _rushing into anything._ It might not even work out." Prompto stares dreamily at the light fixture on the ceiling as if a trial-period relationship that might not even work out was the most romantic thing that had ever happened to him. Noctis feels a headache coming on.

"I knew it. Guy or gal?"

"It's a guy."

Noctis considers this. "Taller or shorter?"

"Dude, what? Why does that matter?" Prompto frowns. "Taller."

"It doesn't, I'm just... trying to get a visual," Noctis says evasively. It matters. He has to be ready in case it's the crowbar. "How'd you meet?"

"We sort of... well, it's comp... we've sort of known each..." Prompto scratches the back of his head, antsy. He avoids Noctis' gaze. That's not a good sign. "It's just... we didn't _just meet_ , it..."

Noctis queasily hopes Prompto isn't about to say something like _It was fate, Noct, the stars meant for this to happen, we were destined to be together!_ He's not sure he can sit through that again. He chooses to pre-empt the possibility by changing directions.

"Okay, no need to sweat about it. So what's he like?"

Prompto's faces lights up into the picture of bliss, even as he bashfully scuffs his feet against the ground.

"Well, he's... he's like... it's like this... he's... "

Noctis waits. This might take a while. Prompto had once sent him a series of a dozen short poems about Cindy to proofread, and all of them had been _terrible._

"He's really not... it's just that... he's the most... well, you know... or I guess you don't. Because I haven't told you, huh? Noct, I swear..."

Noctis ponders whether it's better if the guy actually has a personality or doesn't. Prompto might not be doing a good job of describing it, but he sure seems to _like_ whoever it is.

"He's just... he's really... he's sort of... you know..."

Noctis takes a swig of cola. Any time now.

"He's sort of... Gladio."

Noctis chokes, bends over, and spits the cola across the room.

 

 

It's not that Gladio is _a bad guy._

Noctis has known Gladio since they were both middle-schoolers. Gladio is one of the best people he's ever met. He's great with kids because he half-raised his little sister, and he's surprisingly gentle for such a big guy. He's well-read, even if his taste in reading material leans towards sappy mush when he can help it. He's got a low-key sense of humor. He likes to take hikes and go rock-climbing. He's incredibly responsible. He's also never been one to start trouble, maybe because of how he was brought up, but Noctis has learned first-hand through enough training sessions at the dojo that Gladio can absolutely fuck someone up if they give him a reason.

Gladio's the first guy Noctis would want to have with him in a tight spot, or even just when hanging out at the pub. He's happy to call Gladio a friend.

But Gladio's love life has a body count higher than Takka's Famous Hammerhead Hot Sandwiches, and Noctis is Concerned.

Gladio has no problem _starting_ relationships. When they were sixteen and Gladio had first discovered leather trousers and motorbikes, Noctis had basically become a concierge for a few months, idly greeting the revolving door of people coming in and out of Gladio's apartment. Hell, he'd been a bouncer once or twice, when people got a little too insistent and Gladio was reluctant to turn them down. For the most part, Gladio seemed happy with his flings, and his flings seemed happy with Gladio.

But that's the thing. Gladio hadn't managed to settle down in a relationship for longer than a week the entire time Noctis has known him.

He knows Gladio _tries,_ too. He's attentive, caring, sweet. He's moaned about a few boyfriends and girlfriends while lying on the floor of Noctis's room, but he's never _started fights,_ and he's never been pushy, and he's never ghosted on anyone as far as Noctis can tell.

But things just tended to... well, end badly. Sometimes they fizzled out because Gladio wasn't really ready to commit as much as the other person wanted, what with his training schedule and with taking care of Iris and all. Sometimes people would get upset about his constant shirtlessness and friendliness with strangers and general _Gladio-ness,_ and Noctis had tried to explain that that's just what Gladio was like, it wasn't like he was _flirting_ with other people, he'd never cheat, he just opened up real easy a lot of the time (that had been the wrong wording, judging from the look on that poor sod's face). Once, an ex had dropped by after their break-up to get some clothes he'd left at Gladio's place, and Gladio had been in the middle of things with his new girlfriend, and then he'd been flustered and called the ex by the wrong name, and then the ex had mistaken the girlfriend for a totally different person Gladio used to date, and long story short, Gladio had had to hide at Noct's place for like a week.

Noctis wishes Gladio the best. He just hasn't... found the right person yet. One day, he'll make somebody pretty damn happy.

But that day might not be this day.

And Prompto, Prompto the human sunburst, Prompto who could shut off a rainstorm by beaming at it, Prompto who had tried to adopt baby chocobos from the zoo three times and who took pictures of interesting-looking rocks and who fell in love with anybody who so much as said 'excuse me' to him... Prompto might be _disappointed._

And then Noctis would have to kill Gladio.

Noctis doesn't want that.

He frowns moodily at the ceiling. He'll need to think of something. Then he turns over in bed, grabs his phone, and plays King's Knight until five in the morning, when he falls asleep mid-campaign and drools all over his pillow.

He wakes up two hours later.

He has _an idea._

 

 


	2. DATE 1 [the cafe]

"Now. Help me to understand," Ignis says. His hands are lightly paused on the pages of the current events magazine he had been reading. "Your two best friends, whom you care about deeply, have begun to date."

"Yep."

"You wish for them to have happy, fulfilling relationships in life, however those relationships may look."

"Uh-huh."

"You are in no way jealous of the fact that they are spending more time together now than they have been with you. They have assured you that things won't change between the three of you, and you have plenty of other friends, and in fact, you have multiple hobbies with which to keep yourself occupied."

"That's right."

"So you intend to go along with them on said dates, clandestinely monitoring every development in their courtship in order to interfere if things progress too fast for your comfort." Ignis's eyes scour the ceiling, as if trying to recall the details. "And you want me to come along."

Noctis looks at Ignis expectantly.

"Mmm. No." Ignis goes back to his magazine.

"You know what, fine," Noctis snaps, standing up and causing the entire rest of the library to turn and look at him. "I'll do it myself."

 

OPERATION: SAVE PROMPTO

"People need that whiteboard, Noct," Ignis intones, turning a page.

"If you're not going to help, at least let me think in peace," Noctis mumbles irritably, chewing on the cap of his marker.

OPERATION: SAVE PROMPTO AND GLADIO

OPERATION: SAVE PROMPTO AND GLADIO FROM

 

OPERATION: SAVE PROMPTO AND GLADIO FROM BEING HEARTBROKEN (PROMPTO) AND MURDERED (GLADIO).

DATE 1: CUTE CAFE, CAN'T PRONOUNCE THE NAME.

Noctis sits eagerly, back straight and hands folded, at a small wooden table decorated with frilly moogle-themed place settings. He has a baseball cap and a jacket with a high collar. He even has a pair of new shades, bought especially for this project. He's ready.

He had been momentarily thrown upon realizing that Gladio and Prompto had begun to make a habit of _breakfast dates._ That was apparently a thing. Who knew anybody other than Ignis got up earlier than half past ten? But Prompto had enthusiastically told Noctis about him and Gladio going _jogging_ in the mornings, and they'd crashed into each other a couple times before they'd actually gotten talking, and then they'd decided to go together, and now they're taking turns picking routes, and they'd found a great place to stop for sandwiches and shakes afterwards. There's an outdoor patio with an awning.

"We've been doing it for ages," Prompto had said defensively. "It's not like a couple thing. You could come, Noct!"

Yeah, right. It was definitely a couple thing.

Noctis had to be there.

He'd been tempted to take Prompto up on the offer to join him and Gladio because that would've made it all that much easier, but — jogging. And he didn't want to seem _too_ invested. He'd chosen to settle into a spot in the corner at the cafe before they arrived instead.

It is the first time in living memory that Noctis has been something resembling 'chipper' at eight in the morning, which Ignis had wasted no time in pointing out, but Noctis had waved that off. He Knows What He Must Do, and nobody can stop him.

Here they come. Noctis ducks behind his menu.

"...ude, I didn't even know the lower wall had a view! Is it only open in the mornings?"

"You got it. Just for the guard change."

Noctis's two friends burst into sight with a gust of sweat and morning air. Gladio is fairly glistening in a tank top, his hair tied up in a half-knot, while Prompto has a jacket tied around his waist and a bright-pink headband keeping the hair out of his face. They look delighted and energized in a way that nobody should be after running several miles before breakfast. They exchange a very serious high five, as if completing some sort of ritual, and gesture for a table for two.

They're led out to the patio, and place what seem to be their usual orders without even looking at the menu. They settle in. Noctis can, from his seat, just see them and hear what they're talking about, while they would probably have trouble noticing him. Just as planned.

"You wanna take your camera up there next time?" Gladio is saying. He's pulling out his chair and angling it so that he can sit down without cramping his legs. Prompto naturally adjusts his own legs to make room so that they're both comfortable.

"Oh, man, do you think you'd be able to see the dust storms from there?" Prompto leans forward, elbows on tabletop. "I mean, not that there usually are dust storms in the mornings at this time of year, but in the fall?"

"I don't know. That might be easier from outside the wall..."

"Kupo, hon. You ready to order?" Noctis jerks and looks up at the waitress, whose kind smile is beginning to look a little strained. This is the fourth time she's come around.

"Oh, right," Noctis says hastily, and looks down at the menu. He jabs his finger at a random dish. "I'll have this one."

"...ou haven't been out there?"

"Well, not in a while. I'd need like, papers to get back in and all." Prompto sounds kind of crestfallen.

Gladio sits back, thoughtful, arm draped over the back of his own chair. "You know, I could probably swing it."

Prompto perks up. "Legally?"

"Yeah. If you need a sig, my dad's on the council and all, and he knows I could vouch for you..."

The waitress is saying something. Noctis blinks. "Sorry?"

She repeats herself patiently. "Sausage or bacon?"

Noctis turns back to the menu. "Uh, either. Both." He takes a closer look at what he's just ordered and frowns. "Can you replace the beans?"

"...eally? That would be awesome! Do you think?"

Noctis hands over the menu. Has Prompto even met Gladio's dad? Clarus Amicitia isn't exactly unimposing. Should he be worried?

"... Wait, if you're vouching for me, does that mean that if I disappear, you get arrested?"

"Yeah." Gladio sets down the fork he's been twirling idly between his fingers. "What, are you planning to run off?"

Prompto looks mock-offended. "I am _shocked_ that you would suggest that of me."

"'Cause if you are," Gladio says, "I ain't about to do time for it. Hope you're planning to have company."

Prompto beams and shakes the salt shaker he's currently fiddling with, sprinkling salt all over the palm of his hand. "Aww. You know, I would totally be down for a roa... Noct?"

Noct curses and ducks. Shit. Why hadn't he asked to keep the menu? He's even sitting in the shadowy part of the cafe! Damn Prompto's corrective laser eye surgery!

Prompto stands, brushing himself off, and Gladio turns to look at him.

"Hi," Noct says weakly, sitting up like he's just noticed them. "I didn't know you guys were here."

Prompto is coming over, and Gladio's getting up to follow him. Shit.

"Oh, man! You found it! I told you about this place, right? Did you order the ulwaat-sylkis shake? I swear it's the best thing, I dunno what they put in it." Prompto pauses, concerned, when he notices that Noctis is sitting alone. And awake. "Are you..." He looks bewildered. "Are you waiting for someone? Ignis?"

"That's right. Ignis." Great idea, Prompto. Ignis is literally the only other person he knows who could get him out of bed at this hour. "He uh, he's running late."

Prompto nods in sympathy. Gladio, for his part, checks his watch. "Well, you wanna come join us until he gets here?"

Jackpot. "Sure do," Noctis says brightly, standing up and taking his place setting with him.

By the time their food arrives, they've gotten into a heated discussion about the latest Justice Monsters Five. Then Noctis and Prompto are telling Gladio about their high school gym teacher who sounded exactly like one of the new additional characters, and then Gladio's getting defensive about the rumors that he slept with the history teacher, and then they're talking about the latest movie star tabloid headlines, and Noctis completely forgets that he's supposed to be on a mission until Gladio offers to call Iggy and see what's the hold-up.

Noctis uncomfortably shovels bacon into his mouth. "Nah, you know what, I just remembered he said he wanted to meet at Seventh Heaven instead if he couldn't make it here," he mumbles, dropping his share of the gil on the counter and getting to his feet. "I'll see you guys later."

Gladio and Prompto look a little taken aback, but wave him goodbye through the window, slurping their shakes.

Noctis scowls as he walks out the door, but then reflects that it hadn't gone all that badly. But anyway, hadn't Prompto said this was a non-couple thing? Maybe they were keeping it relaxed because they knew Noctis was here.

He needs to be more inconspicuous about this.

 

 


	3. DATE 2 [the movies]

DATE 2: MOVIES. TERRIBLE FAMILY ACTION FLICK. WHY DO THEY LIKE THIS STUFF.

Ignis holds Noctis's car keys in his hand.

He looks to the left. A flashing display declares "ANACONDAUR: THE LAST QUEST IS HERE!", while a harried-looking mother tries to usher a group of yelling kids wearing birthday hats away from the concessions stand.

Ignis looks to the right. A bored theatre employee is handing out paper-wrapped 3D glasses to giggling moviegoers. Another barely-awake employee sweeps litter and discarded candy bits off the carpet and into a dustbin, a neverending task, as the litter is promptly replaced by new crumbs tracked around by passing feet.

Ignis looks straight ahead to where Noctis is crouching behind a potted plant next to the arcade, peering out intermittently and munching from a huge tub of popcorn.

"You told me," Ignis says slowly, "This was urgent."

"It is," Noctis insists. "Look, I can't watch a movie by myself."

"Of course not," Ignis says. "People might think you had no friends and were _deserving of pity."_ The phrase had never been uttered with such vitriol.

Noctis just thrusts a ticket and a soft drink at Ignis. "Come on, show's gonna start any minute now. I saved us seats in the back already. View of the entire theatre, especially," he says pointedly, "The makeout rows. Now we've just got to wait for the lights to come down and sneak in."

Ignis looks at him askance. "Are you planning to sit through the entirety of," Ignis examines the ticket as if it's trying to poison him, _"Malboro-Kun: Another Day?"_

"It has three-star reviews," Noctis says defensively.

"Two hours." Ignis looks thoughtfully at his watch, frowns. "What if I left you here and did something productive with my time instead?"

Noctis seizes Ignis's trouser leg. "No!"

"Noct, _detach yourself."_

He doesn't need to say it twice. Noctis lets go, but doubles down. "You're gonna come to the movies and not even watch?"

"A tragic situation that _might_ have been avoided."

"You're already here!"

"And I _could_ have been already gone. Why, look, another opportunity passing by."

"You'll be the only one out of the four of us who hasn't seen it," Noctis points out.

"I'm sure I'll survive."

 _"Will_ you?"

Ignis pauses. Noctis braces himself and lowers his voice. _Big guns, here we come._

"Prompto's gonna say you should see it."

Ignis shoots him a withering glare.

_Gotcha._

"Come on, you know he will." This is true. Even in the very, very unprecedented event that Prompto sees a Malboro-Kun movie and _doesn't_ like it, he's going to tell them all to see it anyway, because _no, I gotta discuss this with someone dude, you gotta see it!_ "He's going to sing the theme song. In the car. Outside. When he does the dishes."

Ignis hasn't left yet. Noctis swears he can see the hairs rise on the back of the other man's neck.

"He'll wanna talk about it," Noctis continues, low. "And he'll try not to spoil it, but we're around each other so much, and then he'll spoil it anyway by accident. It'll take a week, tops. You'll know the entire plot. You'll be able to quote it. And then — " Noctis slows for dramatic effect, " — he'll realize what he's done, and he'll be upset every time he thinks about it for _months_ , because he'll think _he's the reason you didn't go see it. Forever."_

Ignis stands stock still, shoulders squared. His face could be carved of stone.

"You gotta," Noctis concludes with relish.

Ignis pockets the keys.

\---

Nearly two hours of sitting next to an icicle later, Noctis prods Ignis and gives him the signal. They sneak out just before the credits roll, before the lights come up.

"Well," Noctis says, stretching gingerly and adjusting his hoodie outside the door. "I thought it wasn't bad."

Ignis doesn't say anything. Noctis winces internally. He'd hoped the heartwarming ending would've been enough to win Ignis over a bit. He might have slightly misjudged.

Noctis clears his throat. "So. Did you see either of them make a move?" Noctis wishes he'd been paying closer attention, but it had been more difficult to focus when Malboro-Kun was in danger than anticipated. This was why he had wanted Ignis along. Maybe he'd have a better idea of how the date had gone.

"If you think," Ignis says, "That Prompto and Gladio chose _this movie_ in order to illicitly engage in semi-public amorous activity under the cover of darkness, I dread to consider where else you've been following them."

They are interrupted by the cinema doors bursting open, and Noctis rapidly pulls Ignis aside and around a corner. Sure enough, Prompto and Gladio emerge, Prompto _sobbing openly_ into Gladio's bicep.

The swarm of moviegoers around them includes mostly hyperactive children sloshing cups of ice and their tired parents, a few junior-high-school couples holding hands, and a heavily-bearded middle-aged man wearing a Malboro-Kun hat and shirt, texting rapidly on his phone. More than a few of them glance curiously at the crying blond as they walk past.

Gladio awkwardly pats the back of Prompto's head. "You okay?"

"He never even got to say thank-you in the end," Prompto blubbers. "How _could_ they?"

Gladio steers Prompto a little ways away.

As worried as Noctis is about Prompto's emotional well-being, he sympathizes with Gladio a bit. Prompto can be kind of loud and... effusive, when he's emotional. Still, Gladio better learn to put up with it, because only Noctis is allowed to give Prompto grief about that. Noctis will unhesitatingly kick Gladio's ass.

"I don't know, Prom," Gladio says hesitantly, "I thought the point was he never needed to, right?"

Prompto lets out another wail. A nearby security guard eyes them in concern. Gladio catches the guard's eye over Prompto's shoulder and grimaces. He makes a surreptitious _calm it, I got this_ motion with his free hand.

Noctis makes a gesture. _Get ready to move, Specs._ Gladio's about to take Prompto somewhere for food to make him feel better. That's what Noctis would do. Even Ignis knows that distracting Prompto with food is a long-standing strategy, and hopefully they'll go somewhere with quiet booths, understanding staff, and a clear vantage point through the window from across the street.

"All right, all right, quit it, Prom. It ain't the end," Gladio says gently. "You know they'll all see each other again."

Prompto sniffles, shooting him a look. "They really won't, big guy, the installments are all standalone."

"Sure, but they ain't exactly an exhaustive account, are they?" Gladio crosses his arms. He makes no move to suggest they go somewhere else. "There's a reason we got that shot of that letter pinned to the bulletin board."

Prompto looks at him, torn. "You... really think that meant something?"

"'Course. And the arba herder's footprints heading south? That weren't for nothin'."

"But you can't know that!"

Gladio scoffs. "Well, what about the clock in the car? You see the time?"

A glimmer of hope in Prompto's eyes. "One... one-oh-two. Thirteen-two?" An epiphany is slowly dawning on Prompto's face. He glances up rapidly. " _No._ You think?"

Gladio nods. "You've seen Villiers' stuff before, right? Guy knows what he's doing. Detail like that ain't just set dressing, that's for sure."

"I guess... I guess so." Prompto frowns, deep in thought. "I... but the prince... but then the detective wouldn't know... and what about..."

Noctis, who could swear he had just sat through the exact same movie as these two, has no idea what they're talking about. He glances at Ignis. Ignis rolls his eyes as if to say, _I do not know the finer points of Malboro-Kun franchise canon any better than you do, Noct, and if the gods are kind, I never will._

"You know?" Prompto decides slowly. "You're right. You're right!" He looks excited, even as the rims of his eyes are still red. "Oh. Dude! You know, we gotta give it another watch. What if there's a hint about the next one in there that we missed?"

Gladio looks pleased. "Good. I gotta have someone to see the sequel with, don't I?"

Prompto wipes his face against the back of his hand. He huffs, blinking the tears out of his eyes. Then he seems to realize where the majority of his crying fit has gone.

"I uh," Prompto says, face reddening as he looks up at Gladio, then down at Gladio's shirt. "I'm sorry I got your shirt all nasty."

Gladio picks at the large wet spot on his tank top for a moment. Then he shrugs, grasps the hem, and pulls the shirt off over his head. He offers it to Prompto with a soft smile, hair sticking up.

This, Noctis reflects, was _completely unnecessary._

"Whoa! Uh." Prompto is staring at Gladio's abs as he accepts the shirt. He hastily manages to avert his eyes for about a second. "For... for me?"

"Yeah. Don't think it can stand more than one nose-blow, though."

Prompto takes the shirt, gobsmacked. "Got it. I'll try to keep it to just one," he says weakly.

If it had been anybody but Gladio, Noctis would have said the guy was just trying to show off. But — and Noctis is loathe to admit this — Gladio is really just like this. Being cried on is probably one of the more valid reasons he's ever seen Gladio strip off a shirt for.

"So uh," Prompto says, scratching his head and ducking, shirt in his hand. "Guess we should head to your place so you can get another one, huh?"

Gladio blinks.

Prompto gives him a little glance, tentative and wide-eyed.

Gladio cocks his head. "Sounds like a plan," he says.

At this moment, the security guard who has been looking more and more uncomfortable finally approaches. "Sir," he tries timidly. "You really can't... take off your clothes in the theatre."

"Huh? Oh, right." Gladio looks down, apparently unaware of the growing gaggle of theatregoers holding up the line to stare at him.

The guard tries not to look at Gladio's pecs. "I'm afraid I'll have to... tell you to..."

"Sorry. We're just heading out," Gladio says, and the guard looks both relieved and slightly sorry. Prompto shoots the crowd a small grin.

As they turn to leave, Gladio pauses, frowns, and looks over at the corner where Noctis and Ignis are hiding.

Noctis cringes and ducks, obscuring his face with his popcorn tub.

For a long second, Gladio looks suspiciously at the potted plant set near them.

Then he turns away. Prompto says something, and Gladio lets Prompto loop their arms together as the two of them head outside.

Noctis waits for them to disappear from sight.

Noctis turns to Ignis. "So if we get to the car real fast, we can make it to Gladio's — "

"I'm going _home_ , Noct. If you would like your ride back to take place anywhere outside of the trunk, _you will stop talking."_

Noctis stops talking.

 


	4. DATE 3 [the amusement park]

DATE 3: AMUSEMENT PARK. (EDIT: DATE MOVED.)

"The amusement park?"

Noctis pauses in the middle of combing through the shelf of assorted books, magazines, CDs, movies, maps, workout knick-knacks and small stuffed toys in the corner of Gladio's room. There's always something new there every time he comes around, and today there's a thin stack of photographs crammed between two books. He can just make out the corner of some sort of sunrise on the first one.

Gladio's lying on his bed, turning a page in his latest novel and absently bouncing a rubber chickatrice off his wall into his hand. It squeaks every time it hits the headboard. "Yeah. Some limited-time cactuar carnival thing going on," he says. "There's food. Not exactly sure."

"I think we went last year." Noctis faintly recalls Prompto dragging him off to some crowded event in the summer with a lot of paint-smeared children, yelling over megaphones, cotton candy, daemon mascots, and deep-fried cheesecake on a stick. Ignis had accompanied them, and had seemed both riled and fascinated by the food stands. "Can't remember the last time you went, though."

"Shut up, I have free time."

That's a different issue Noctis isn't about to press. "Just didn't think you were the type to enjoy it."

"Says who?"

"Says the fact that you haven't been since Iris made you go when she was six."

"Huh." The toy squeaks. "She's got her own friends to hold hostage now."

"Guess so." Noctis reflects that this isn't an answer that inspires any belief in Gladio's profound love of standing in hour-long lines for deep-fried dessert. There's nothing about amusement parks that Gladio would seem to enjoy — as far as Noctis can tell, Gladio likes quiet places, nature, beer and chatting people up, none of which exist in any acceptable form in that setting — but Noctis supposes it's sweet that he's willing to venture out of his comfort zone for Prompto.

Noctis had asked him about how things were going with Prompto earlier, trying to keep the emphasis on _things_ casual. Gladio had awkwardly apologized for not telling him about it sooner ("I know he's your friend, and I should've mentioned — " Noctis had cut him off there, because he wasn't Prompto's _dad,_ and also Prompto had done like the exact same thing earlier, which was even weirder) and Noctis had joked in an attempt to end the conversation quickly that it was okay as long as they kept him updated on any plans to get married, and then Gladio had agreed totally straight-faced, which just made Noctis furtively anxious. He had ultimately decided to forget the whole exchange ever happened.

"So that's tomorrow?" Noctis checks his mental calendar. It's a Sunday.

"Yep." Gladio looks at Noctis curiously, upside-down. "Why? You planning on checking it out?"

"I dunno. Maybe." Yes. "It's just, you know, I might have a thing with my dad." Regis tries to set aside Sunday evenings to eat with Noctis, and Noctis doesn't like to cancel if he can help it.

Gladio nods. "Right. Dinner." Squeak. "How's your dad doing, by the way?"

"He's, you know. He's dad. Whatever." Noctis winces. That came out a little flippant, but he's never really sure what to say about his father these days.

The squeaks pause for a second, then resume. "Sure." Noctis supposes Gladio gets it — after all, his own father isn't exactly an uncomplicated subject matter, for many of the same reasons Noctis's isn't.

Noctis doesn't get to muse on this much further, because a knock comes at the door. It flies open a moment later and Iris bounds in, hair messy from the wind.

"Gladdy, I'm sorry, I — oh, hey, Noct! — Gladdy, I totally forgot that I have cooking class down at the Fork tomorrow afternoon. Can you drive me?"

Gladio rolls over in bed. "Forgot, huh? What time?"

"Four."

"Sure."

"Are you sure? I thought you had a thing with — "

"It's fine, we can move it. Just gimme a sec." Gladio rolls off the bed to his feet and digs his phone out.

Noctis stops to watch him, wary. It's great that Gladio rarely ever hesitates to do anything for Iris; he's always been there for her for as long as Noctis can remember. She's a lot younger, and their mother passed away when she was still small, leaving her in the care of their elderly butler and mostly-absent father. Gladio had stepped up when he was still a kid, and Noctis is always going to be proud of him for it.

But it's also been a source of friction in Gladio's relationships. His little sister always comes first, and not many people their age sign up for that.

Gladio manages to get through. "Hey, Prom. Listen, something came up with Iris tomorrow..."

He stalks off into the hallway for some privacy, leaving Iris and Noctis behind in the room.

Iris stands near the doorway. She frowns at the chickatrice lying abandoned on the bed, mildly distressed. "What have you two been doing to Mr. Waffles?"

Noctis turns towards her, swivelling on the floor. "Hey, Iris. Think you could cancel that class?"

She blinks at him. "Eh?"

"It's just, Gladio and Prompto were planning on a day out tomorrow."

She looks apologetic. "Yeah, I know. I'm sorry. I know it's last minute, but I can't, I promised Tiff. I don't plan to make a habit of it."

"Well, how about I drive you?" Noctis offers.

Iris blushes. "Like a date? I'd never hear the end of it."

Upon reflection, Noctis supposes it would look pretty bad if the paparazzi caught him dropping teenage girls off places, nevermind Iris's friends letting her have it. Maybe Ignis could drive her? He's less likely to be recognized. Noctis wracks his mind for some sort of favor he could call in.

"Hey, Noct." Iris sounds worried. "Is this about Prompto?"

Noctis cringes.

She sighs and toes the floor. "I know I take up a lot of Gladdy's time, and I... know it's been a problem in the past. But I wouldn't have asked if I thought they'd be upset."

"No, Iris, that's not..." Great, now he feels guilty. "Just wanted to make things easier for all of you, you know?"

Iris huffs and smiles. "Oh, Noct," she says, like _he's_ the one who needs looking after. "You're a great guy. But Prompto's a great guy, too. Shouldn't you have faith your friends?"

Gladio returns as Noct opens and closes his mouth, speechless. "It's fine," Gladio says. "We'll do it next week. Mind if Prompto comes along when I pick you up?"

Iris beams and throws her arms around his neck. "That's great, Gladdy. Thank you, thank you!" Gladio pretends that she's wrestling him to the floor and lets out a mock-groan of defeat. Iris giggles. She gives Noctis a reassuring look over her fake sleeper hold as if to say, _See? It'll work out!_

Noctis tries to smile back.

\---

At about five o'clock the next day, Noctis sits parked across the street from the building where Iris's cooking class is currently wrapping up. He taps his fingers against the steering wheel patiently and checks his watch.

He'd tried to get Ignis to join in, but Ignis had declined. _"Loitering outside a building full of teenage girls. What could go wrong,"_ his text message had read. _"No."_

Noctis had thought so. Luckily, he's got everything he needs right here: tinted windows, three-hour parking, and a directional microphone jammed through a crack in the door. _"That's abuse of Crownsguard property, Noct,"_ Ignis' further text had read, but who was Ignis going to report him to? His dad? Thank the Six for Ignis' dignity; even he wouldn't resort to "I'll tell your dad" as a sanction. As long as Ignis has plausible deniability and Noctis doesn't get caught, he'll leave Noctis be.

Kids are starting to leave the building in clusters of two or three, mostly high-schoolers toting knapsacks and tupperware containers. If Noctis is right, Gladio and Prompto should be arriving... now.

Now.

Now.

Okay, maybe his timing is off a bit.

But he does see Iris, chatting with a couple friends as they emerge into the sun. They linger on the corner for a minute before her friends split off for the bus stop. Iris sits contentedly on the low concrete wall out front, swinging her legs, a box held in her lap. There's no anxiety there. She knows it's not like Gladio to be more than a few minutes late.

And _there's_ Gladio's car pulling in. Noctis fiddles with the mic just slightly.

 _"Hey,_ Iris!" Prompto is hanging out the front passenger window enthusiastically, wide grin as they draw parallel to the curb. His hair is messier than usual somehow. That's unlike him. "What's up?"

"Promps!" Iris hops off the wall and runs over. "Gladdy! Thanks for getting me, guys!"

"It's no prob," Prompto says. "How was class? Learn any new recipes? Think you can take on Iggy yet?"

"Not quite there yet, but I'm leveling up!" she promises, pumping her fist. Prompto holds out his own fist for a bump, and she happily obliges.

She opens the door. "Where are you guys going after this?"

"Just dinner," comes Gladio's amused voice. "Haven't decided where."

"Oh! Do I get to come?"

"Nice try, kiddo."

"I'd let her come," Prompto says, pouting.

"Aww, thanks, Promps!"

"Maybe next time. Right now, we're dropping you off at home," Gladio says.

"Yeah, yeah, I know. Seriously, guys, thank you." Her voice is sincere and heartfelt. She scuffs her feet against the curb. "I'm sorry you had to miss the cactuar carnival. I guess I really owe you one."

Prompto waves her off. "Naw, Iris, it's no sweat. The carnival runs another couple weeks anyway. And we rarely get out to this part of the city, you know? It's nice."

"Promps, you really are the sweetest!"

He grins. "Almost as _sweet_ as whatever you've got there in that box?"

"Oh! It's cupcakes! Wanna try one?" She beams and opens the box with a flourish.

"Yeah? Can I?" At her nod, Prompto picks what looks like one icing-covered confectionery blob out of the box. He takes a bite and moans. "Oh, man. It's _so good_. What's in this?"

"Let's see. There's flour, sugar, butter... raisins, carrots, nutmeg... Duscaen orange zest... some ginger... and what is it..." Iris snaps her fingers. "Zucchini!"

Prompto gives her a look of disbelief, mouth still full. "No way. Zucchini?" He chews. His voice is muffled. "You can't even taste it."

Iris giggles. "Right? Think of what other stuff I could sneak in there if anyone did anything to hurt Gladdy."

Prompto makes a choking noise.

Noctis very, very carefully sinks down in his seat.

"Anyway," Iris continues eagerly, "I don't wanna hold you two up or anything. I'm super glad that you guys are having a good time. You too, Gladdy, you take care of Prom!"

"Yes ma'am," Gladio says.

"Good! So, you know how I was telling you about Tiff wanting to join the Guard..."

The door shuts and the car pulls off.

\---

Barely a minute later, Noctis gets a text.

_"Hey Noct, I know you were worried about Gladdy and Prompto getting along. Well, they're going to be fine! I promise - Iris~ <3"_

Noctis stares at the phone in his hand.

\---

Another minute later, he gets a text from Ignis.

_"The Crownsguard are getting a tip that there's been a suspicious vehicle spotted around the Fork. You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?"_

Noctis looks around. There's a couple girls peering in his direction from the bus stop in concern. He watches as one covers the speaker on her phone and glances around the corner.

He texts back _"nope"_.

He floors it out of there.

\---

The next week, Noctis stirs a mega-size orange slushie with his straw and watches Gladio lean over a trash can while Prompto holds his hair and pats his back awkwardly. Who knew roller coasters made Gladio throw up?

Prompto later hits every single can in the airgun game and wins an enormous stuffed spiracorn that Gladio lugs around proudly for the rest of the day. He sends Noctis a selfie of them wearing cactuar-themed glowstick glasses.

The photo is accompanied by a text message: _"Think Iris wants a stuffed cactuar?"_

Noctis thinks.

He sends back: _"Can't hurt. Get me one too."_

 


	5. DATE 4 [the coffee bar]

DATE 4: COFFEE PLACE. BUT LIKE NICE COFFEE PLACE WITH LIKE, GOOD DESSERT. NOTE: GO HERE MORE. (EDIT: ignis what the fu)

Noctis is standing in the aisle of back-row booths at an upscale inner-district coffee-and-tea bar.

The place is quiet, mostly empty, warmly lit with low-hanging incandescent lightbulbs. Fern-covered trellises double as dividing walls, forming alcoves for the comfort and privacy of patrons. A large window overlooks the street below, the polished wood tabletops gleam, and the faint music playing in the background provides a soft atmosphere.

Ignis is sitting at one of the stools in the two-person booth, magazine in his hand, legs neatly crossed.

"Good afternoon, Noct," he says, without looking up.

Noctis stares. "Specs? I... what..." He flounders. "I reserved this table."

"Yes, thank you. That was very thoughtful of you. I changed the reservation." Ignis calmly sets the magazine down. "Have a seat before Gladio and Prompto see you."

Noctis glances towards the front of the room where his two friends have just arrived. They're slinging their jackets over the backs of their chairs, happily oblivious to his presence. Noctis quickly slides into the seat across from Ignis, ducking out of their line of sight.

"What are you doing here? I didn't tell you..." Noctis trails off. _Had_ he told Ignis to come here? He'd thought he hadn't. After the last few times, he'd started to think it was a lost cause.

Ignis looks unfazed. "I like the tea here," he says.

Noctis narrows his eyes.

"I'd been wanting to give their summer selection a try."

Ignis elaborates no further. Somewhere over his shoulder, Gladio and Prompto pour over the specials; from their quietly drifting voices, they seem to be in a minor crisis over ice cream with pie versus ice cream pie.

Noctis picks up the menu suspiciously. "All right, Specs," he says. "Just... keep your voice down."

"Of course," Ignis agrees. He sips his drink mildly.

Ignis seems content to read his magazine quietly, so Noctis orders a plate of scones and a tall mug of some frothy caffeinated thing with a couple shots of booze in it. Time to observe.

\---

Forty minutes later, as Noctis watches Gladio and Prompto share a fifth slice of cake ( _they could have each just ordered their own,_ Noctis thinks irritably), Ignis sets down his mug and says, "We need to talk about this."

"About what?" Noctis says, craning his neck and picking apart a scone. "Gladio and Prompto? Yeah, I don't know what they do with all those food photos either. Do you think one of them keeps a blog?"

"No," Ignis says patiently. "Not about them. About this."

"This what?" Noctis chews distractedly, still trying to look around Ignis.

Ignis sighs. He leans forward, adjusts his glasses, folds his hands on the tabletop. Noctis stops chewing momentarily as he catches sight of the steely glint in Ignis's eyes. _Oh, shit._

"Noct," Ignis says carefully, "Is this a sexual fixation?"

"A — _what?"_ Noctis tries not to inhale pieces of scone. A _what?_

Ignis continues on boredly without pause, as if reading from a checklist. "Is it a romantic complication? Have you been involved with either Gladio or Prompto in the past?"

_"What?"_

"Are you pining for one or both of your friends, but unable to express so in a direct manner because you fear to take advantage of your station over them? An unenviable dilemma."

"No! What are you — _what?"_

"We understand that due to your position, the freedoms of courtship that the common youth often enjoy have not been available to you. You may wish to live such joys vicariously. Would a suitably discreet arrangement with a selection of carefully-vetted individuals serve to satisfy that need?" Ignis is completely poker-faced. He sounds like he's reciting his multiplication tables. Noctis may be losing his mind.

"Are you — are you offering to set me up with a _hooker?_ " This is the most mortifying conversation he's ever had. "Ignis, _what?"_

 _"Answer the questions,_ Noct." There's a hint of a threat in his tone.

"I... no," Noctis splutters. " _No."_ He can feel his face blazing.

Ignis gives him a flat stare. "Do you swear it?"

"Yeah, I do!"

Ignis relaxes. "Good. I'm leaving."

Noctis watches, open-mouthed, as Ignis stands up. He tugs his sleeves back into place with dignity and reaches for his wallet.

_What in the..._

"Wait," Noctis says weakly. Ignis doesn't even look at him. Noctis reaches across the table and tries to snag Ignis's sleeve. It takes two tries. "Wait!"

Ignis looks at him inquisitively, as if he hadn't just asked Noctis a series of probing questions about his sexual and romantic life. Noctis wonders which one of them is having the mental break right now.

"I... Specs, _what the hell?"_ Noctis hisses.

"You might want to let me go before Gladio and Prompto turn back towards us," Ignis says without looking. Noctis glances over, and sure enough, the two of them are turned the other way, trying to beckon a waiter.

"No, just — _sit down,_ " Noctis half-whispers.

Ignis obliges.

\---

Noctis stares at Ignis in disbelief. It's like he's just caught a fish he's never seen before and it tried to bite his hand off. Ignis waits complacently.

"What," Noctis says slowly, "Is going on."

"I'm simply trying to ascertain whether your efforts are indicative of any deeper issues that might require addressing," Ignis says.

"Are you suggesting that I'm doing this out of... out of some sort of... _not_ because I want my best friends to be happy?" He tries not to sound betrayed.

"I'm not suggesting it. Your father is," Ignis says plainly. "He's concerned. His council is concerned. The guard is concerned. _Iris,_ " he points out, "is concerned."

Noctis tries not to shrink. "And you?"

"I have been asked to address their concerns," Ignis says. "I have now done so."

"Wait..." Noctis squints. "Wait a minute. Are you _on the clock?"_

"The Crown needs reassurance that this isn't about to get out of hand." Ignis does the Ignis equivalent of a shrug, which is a slight tilt of the head and a careless flick of the gaze. "Heavens knows I don't get paid enough to deal with this _off_ the clock."

Well, _that_ explains the change in attitude. "So what are you going to tell them?"

"That this _is certainly_ a symptom of some sort of deeper issue, but not one that they can assist with," Ignis says.

Noctis has a sinking feeling in his stomach. All right, yes, he _does_ take advantage of Ignis's friendship sometimes. Iggy puts up with... a lot. He gets that. Noctis shouldn't be dragging him around in his off-time for his own purposes. But he really... Gladio and Prompto... he'd just thought Ignis might want to make sure they're doing okay, too. It's not like Ignis is paid to look after _them,_ after all, just like Gladio isn't paid to look after Ignis and Prompto isn't really paid for, well, anything ("Official job? Bringing the _party_. All the perks and none of the responsibilities," Prompto would say proudly), but they all hang out anyway. They're friends. Or Noctis had thought they were.

"Are you..." Noctis swallows. "Are you upset with me?"

Ignis's face softens at last. "No, Noct," he says. He just sounds tired. "Believe it or not, I do trust that you have the best of intentions. I've told the council as such. You have a good heart." He makes a face. "Even if your zeal may be... misdirected, and your attempts at stealth leave something to be desired."

Noctis feels a bloom of relief in his chest. Okay, so he hasn't messed up too badly. "Sure. Yeah. I agree. So can you help me out or what?"

Ignis's eyes close and his fingers fly to the bridge of his nose. "Noct..."

"You just said I sucked at this," Noctis protests. "Right? If you're helping me out, you're just doing your job."

"What if," Ignis suggests, "You sat down with the two of them separately to _openly_ communicate your support, and to offer your assistance, should any difficulties or misunderstandings arise?"

Noctis snorts. "Does that really sound like something I could pull off?"

Ignis sighs again.

At the other end of the restaurant, Gladio and Prompto are on their sixth dish, some sort of structure made of a mountain of toast. Noctis wonders if they plan to actually eat anything for the rest of the week. Maybe people who exercise have some sort of... he doesn't know, some sort of... storage system, like how garulas have six stomachs or whatever.

Ignis rises again. "Just try to stay out of trouble," he says.

Noctis panics and seizes his sleeve again. "Wait. They'll see you!"

Ignis stiffens just as Gladio and Prompto turn their heads to see what the commotion is.

Ignis says, very patiently: _"Now_ they will."

Noctis lets go of Ignis's sleeve.

\---

Prompto swallows his last bite of toast while bounding over. Gladio isn't far behind. "Hey. Hey, you guys are here too!"

Ignis looks to the heavens as if for strength. He carefully sits back down. Noctis attempts not to cringe as the other two arrive at their table.

"Yeah, we are," Noctis says feebly. "What a coincidence."

"Gladio. Prompto," Ignis greets tightly.

Gladio and Prompto look between the two of them. Noctis tries to avoid their gaze. Ignis's hands are tense on the tabletop.

"Come here often?" Prompto tries.

"Occasionally," Ignis says.

"No," Noctis says.

Prompto blinks. Gladio's brow furrows.

"Uh, well," Prompto says uncomfortably. "It's our first time here, too! We've tried like half the specials already. They are _fantastic._ They really don't skimp on the good stuff. You guys drinking?"

"No," Ignis says.

"Yes," Noctis says.

They frown at each other, dismayed.

Gladio gives Noctis a curious, concerned look. "I thought booze in coffee gave you indigestion," he says.

That was _one time!_ "At least I don't get motion sickness from fair rides," Noctis counters hotly.

Gladio's face reddens. "How do you know abou — "

"Look at the time, I must be going," Ignis declares loudly, not even glancing at his watch. Noctis feels the color drain from his face. Astrals, Ignis is going to _leave him here to deal with this alone._ Sure, Noctis has made some mistakes in his life, and maybe he deserves this, but what if he dies?

Gladio takes one look at Noctis's desperate expression and sighs. "Wait, Iggy. Hang on a sec."

Ignis doesn't move.

Prompto and Gladio glance at each other, awkward.

"So," Prompto says, fidgeting. "That time you two were going to meet up for breakfast?"

"Yeah," Noctis swallows. "About that — "

"You were at the opening of the new _Malboro-Kun_ ," Gladio says with certainty. "Thought I saw you there. Didn't want to point you out."

"Yeah," Noctis admits. "That was us."

Prompto scratches his head. "It was you that Iris was calling up about something, right?"

Noctis blinks. He doesn't know about that.

"That was me," Ignis says dimly.

Noctis's eyebrows shoot up. Ignis meets his gaze resolutely. Noctis isn't sure if it's because Ignis has given up, or because Ignis is going to kill him.

Prompto and Gladio glance at each other again. Prompto clears his throat.

"You know," Prompto says tentatively, "If you guys are dating, you don't have to hide it from us."

Ignis turns his head towards them.

Noctis makes a strangled noise.

Gladio rubs his neck, embarrassed, but doesn't back down. "C'mon. You know we wouldn't tell anyone."

"Yeah, totally!" Prompto exclaims. "Listen, guys: you're our best buds, and we want you to be happy."

"That's," Noctis says, voice reedy. "That's really not what's happening here."

They ignore him. "We just want you to know, whatever happens, we're behind you one hundred percent," Prompto vows passionately. _"Both of you."_

"You're here for us," Gladio says gruffly, arms crossed. "So. We're here for you."

"Yeah, you can count on us! Anytime! If you ever need someone to talk to..."

"Just give us the word," Gladio says. His face is solemn. "We got your back."

A ringing silence. Noctis feels light-headed.

Ignis takes a deep, shaky breath. He smiles waveringly at Gladio and Prompto.

"If only Noct wasn't being so obvious about it," Ignis says. "I keep telling him that he doesn't have to pick up the tab every time. But he _insists."_

What.

Prompto's getting a little teary-eyed. "Noct, man, I didn't know you had it in you, but that's really sweet!"

Actually, Noctis reflects dully. Actually, he might be dead already. Maybe he was hit by an asteroid on his way here. This could be hell. It's entirely possible.

Gladio claps Ignis on the shoulder. Ignis gives him a brave smile and oh, look, the bill is in front of Noctis on the table. Prompto has his arm around Noctis's shoulders, and he's chattering away excitedly in Noctis's ear about potential double-dates. He keeps telling Noct _I'm so proud of you dude, listen I didn't think you were ever gonna get it together, but you can't mess it up okay Iggy is the best, the BEST,_ and he's sniffling, and Gladio's beaming, and, and...

... ah, fuck.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things were going to start coming around to bite Noct in the ass at _some_ point.


	6. DATE 5 [the restaurant]

DATE 5: FANCY RESTAURANT, CAN'T PRONOUNCE THE NAME. SHUT UP IGNIS, I KNOW YOU CAN.

"Do sirs have a preference as to seating?"

Noctis scowls and flicks the collar of his black dress shirt.

Sure, he's used to dressing up for formal occasions, and sure it looks good, but it ranks high on the Things Noctis Hates To Do list, and he can't believe he's dressing up in his off-time. This is bullshit. But according to Ignis, pulling rank in order to avoid dress code at one of Insomnia's nicer historical-cuisine restaurants isn't _an appropriate use of title_ , so here he is.

"Near the front," Noctis tells the man waiting on them. "Really close to the front. As close to the door as we can, and, uh. Can you make sure we can't be seen from the door?"

The man blinks cheerfully, apparently trying to parse the request for what Noctis is actually looking for. Noctis feels his irritation rise. How is that difficult to understand? Have they never had a couple arrive for a double-date early and scope the place out for the furthest spot they could possibly sit from the other couple while still maintaining some sort of eye-contact?

Ignis smiles benignly on Noctis' left. Ignis is dressed pretty much the same as he usually is, because Ignis always looks like he peeled himself off the pages of a semi-formal menswear magazine.

"By the front window would be lovely," Ignis says. "Do you have any spaces available?"

The man nods graciously. "Certainly. Please follow me."

Noctis rolls his eyes.

They are led a short distance away to a table just beside a tall glass window, tablecloth warm under the late afternoon sun. Noctis sits tightly through being offered drinks and hearing the specials recited. Ignis looks politely interested throughout. The waiter eventually leaves them to peruse their menus, and Noctis flips straight to the entrees.

"I can't believe this," Noctis grumbles. "I look like I want to be here."

Silk is the worst material that's ever been invented. It does nothing but sit uncomfortably against your skin, reminding you of the bugs it came from. He'll probably spill something on himself too, just out of repressed spite, and it'll be hell to clean.

"You _did_ want to be here," Ignis reminds him idly, surveying the salad selection as if he'd like to take notes.

Which is true, Noctis will admit, but he hadn't wanted it to be a _big deal._

After the fateful confrontation in the coffee shop, Noctis had taken a few moments to gather himself, drew in a deep breath, opened his mouth, and proceeded to bitch extensively at Ignis in a high-pitched and incoherent manner. The rant he delivered had basically culminated in an aggrieved, _"Why?"_

Ignis had listened calmly. Then he'd replied, "Noct, what would have been the more plausible and defensible version of events? This one, or the truth?"

Noctis had spent a long time that night staring at his ceiling and reflecting on a few things.

Still, there are upsides to his current predicament. One of these is that he no longer needs to be as creative in order to keep tabs on Prompto and Gladio's activities. Under the guise of swapping date-night recommendations, he'd managed to get pretty much their entire itinerary for the month. It's not so weird if they crash into each other every so often now, all things considered.

But then Noctis also has to look like he _meant_ to be there, and that's a whole different story.

Noctis waves his hands in vague frustration. "I just wanted to blend in like I normally do," he says.

Ignis' eyebrows shoot up skeptically. "Mmn."

Noctis flushes slightly. " _You_ wanted to be here," he accuses. It hadn't even taken a minimal amount of cajoling! He'd sent off a half-hearted text earlier that day, and the _What time shall I meet you?_ had arrived at a lightning speed that had thrown him off. Amazing what kind of an attitude change the prospect of forcing Noctis to pay for expensive vegetables on tiny fucking plates could bring about.

"Prompto's never been," Ignis says. "It's a highly-recommended establishment."

Noctis tries not to sputter. Ignis pulling the Do It For Prompto argument? _Ignis?_ Noctis had _invented_ that. "Don't start," Noctis seethes.

Ignis's mouth turns up at the corner slightly. "Speaking of," Ignis says.

Noctis swivels and rises from his chair just enough to see Prompto and Gladio arrive at the door.

Gladio's cleaned up a bit, which is always slightly weird to see, but he fills a suit as well as he does his usual sweatpants-and-tank-top getup. He doesn't _look_ as uncomfortable as Noctis always feels in one, either. He's just a lot of leg, tied-up hair, and slightly more skin than most people who aren't Gladio could get away with.

Prompto, on the other hand, looks way, _way_ more uncomfortable than Noctis always feels. Noctis cringes internally.

Prompto looks _good,_ yeah, but his outfit might actually be an old school uniform. It's slightly crumpled, too, and his tie is kind of lopsided, and he's also showing some skin around the collar, but Noctis is pretty sure it's because the shirt is missing a button. His hair is in its usual windswept style, and while that usually works for him, it looks kind of incongruous in this setting.

So maybe Prompto is under-prepared. It's not a problem. This really isn't the kind of place Prompto would usually frequent — hell, it's not where Noctis would usually choose to dine either. Most people their age wouldn't have much reason to dress up for dinner anyway; it's not Prompto's fault he wound up with an odd crowd who've had it trained into them.

None of them give a damn what he wears. Noctis wouldn't even have noticed if his own outfit hadn't been torturing him so much, and if Prompto hadn't been fidgeting with his cuffs every two seconds.

But yeah, in here it looks kind of like someone picked Prompto up off a street corner. And judging from his mortified demeanor, he knows it.

"I'm not dressed up enough for this," Prompto says gloomily, plucking at his shirt.

"You're fine," Gladio says, unfazed.

"No, I'm not! We don't look like we even live in the same city! This is the nicest thing I've got, and it's missing a button, and you look like... like..." Prompto waves his hands inarticulately.

"Thanks," Gladio says gently. "You're not so bad yourself. The no-button look suits you."

"That's not a _look!"_

"Huh. I'd say the fewer buttons the better," Gladio says, and Prompto buries his face in his hands and makes a noise like a teakettle.

A few guests at other tables within the vicinity — mostly older people in smart business attire — look up and glance their way disapprovingly. Noctis glares at them. _Mind your own business, jackasses._ They don't seem to get the mental message because they keep looking, and Prompto sidles closer to the alcove next to the door, as if trying to hide.

"Maybe... we should leave," Prompto begins in a mutter.

Gladio looks at him, unmoving and concerned. "You said you wanted to check it out," he says.

"I did," Prompto stammers. "And... we're here! Never said we had to _eat_ anything _._ It's nice, I like it. Let's go."

"We skipped out on that lunch banquet," Gladio points out. Prompto reddens slightly.

"Okay, yeah. We did. I know. I'm just..."

Gladio glances around and leans casually against the wall, turning so that Prompto can face him with his back to the rest of the room. Prompto quickly takes the opening. He does look a bit more comfortable facing away from the other diners.

"I just... I'm not used to eating in nice places," Prompto grumbles, ducking and scratching his neck.

Gladio frowns slightly. "A place doesn't have to be fancy to be nice," he defends. He glances over Prompto's shoulder and signals to the approaching waiter that they need a couple more minutes. Prompto appears not to notice.

"Fine. I'm not used to eating in _fancy_ places," Prompto says, defeated.

Gladio shrugs. "Me either," he says. "I just know about this place because my dad used to take us." He hesitates. "You know."

"All the time, huh?" Prompto sounds dejected.

"Often enough," Gladio says.

Prompto sighs.

Noctis is a little taken aback. Come to think of it, the first time he'd been here was probably with his own dad, too.

Noctis remembers childhood dinners with his dad pretty fondly. There was a time before awkward silence was a thing, and he and his father could just sit and pick at their vegetables peacefully together for what felt like hours. When they dined at restaurants around the city, the staff would always be happy to see them. Noctis had, it seems, been a cute kid once.

Nowadays, people are still pleasant, but they mostly seem tense about having to stand through another uncomfortable dinner between the King and his son. He can't really blame them.

Gladio had stood by during more than a few of those dinners with Regis back then, but Noctis hadn't really thought about him having dinner with his _own_ family. Clarus was fairly stoic, from what Noctis knew of him, but Gladio never really talked about his dad with Noctis at all.

He does with Prompto, apparently. Noctis fights the petty urge to be miffed about it.

It kind of makes sense. Prompto rarely gets to see his own parents. He would occasionally bring them up — _D'you think my dad would like this? I think my mom knows something about that —_ and Noctis got the vague idea that Prompto wanted to impress them, but honestly, he doesn't even know how well the Argentums get along.

Prompto has a decent place to crash, but the flipside is that his parents never seem to be around. When shit comes up that he needs help with, Prompto always winds up calling Noctis or Ignis instead.

Maybe Gladio gets that.

Gladio ducks a little to look Prompto cautiously in the face. "Hey," he says. "We can come back another time if you want. Could find you the button for that shirt first."

Prompto looks torn for a moment. Then he shakes his head. "That's not... nah." Prompto takes a deep breath and squares his shoulders. "I can do it."

Gladio eyes him. "Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Okay," Gladio says. He straightens up, and Prompto turns around as a different waitress approaches.

"Good evening and welcome to the Galbadia," the waitress says as she spots them. She looks slightly harried. "Apologies for the wait!"

"Uh, no problem," Prompto says bravely. "Seats for two?"

The waitress gives Prompto a slightly uncomfortable once-over. Her gaze lingers on the missing button at his collar, the slightly-too-long cut of his schoolboy-uniform trousers. Noctis suddenly gets the feeling that maybe, just maybe, someone had sent her up front from another table. His stomach sinks.

Her eyes dart briefly to the back before landing back on Prompto sympathetically. She clears her throat. Noctis feels, _feels_ Prompto stiffen up awkwardly again.

"Would you like a seat at the bar?" she asks, with a note of hope in her voice.

 _What the fuck, lady,_ Noctis thinks in blind outrage. He makes to get up, and Ignis forcefully yanks his chair leg under the table with his foot just in time to catch him. Knocked off-balance, Noctis sits back down with an _oof._ He glares at Ignis.

Prompto flushes and crams his hands in his pockets, as if he's about to back up out the door.

But Gladio just steps up from behind him and slots his arm around Prompto's waist carefully, like it's the most natural thing to do.

"A table," Gladio corrects.

"Of course," the waitress says, flustered. "A table for two. If you'll follow me..."

Prompto relaxes. He shoots Gladio a grateful look.

Noctis's stomach slowly returns to where it ought to be.

Gladio claps Prompto on the back and rubs his shoulder briefly. Prompto exhales as they step into the restaurant.

"So, like. Do you get like a discount for eating at places like this all the time?" Prompto says.

"Nah, though sometimes the chef'll throw something in on the house," Gladio says, and then they're too far away to hear.

\---

"Did you hear that?" Noctis hisses over his place setting at Ignis, fork clenched in his hand. "A _seat at the bar._ Like they were trying to hide him away or something? Or, or like he was just here to meet someone?" He fumes. "What, like this place is all that _classy?"_

Ignis looks thoughtful. "It's a highly-rated establishment. I suppose some of the staff could use more training, but I'm sure she meant no harm."

"No _harm?"_ Noctis scoffs. "Nobody from the Citadel's ever coming here again. I'm putting this place on a blacklist." He throws down the fork in disgust.

"Noct, there's no such thing," Ignis reminds him.

"Well, I'm gonna start one," Noctis grumbles as the waiter arrives to take their order.

Ignis sits up, smiles brightly, and gets the most expensive dish on the menu. "With a glass of white... no, I'm sorry. I believe we'll have the bottle. May we request the sommelier?" Noctis resentfully gets "the fish, I guess."

When the waiter leaves, Noctis hunches over the table. He eyes the other patrons darkly. What a crowd. How can they just sit here and _eat_ like this? _Enjoying_ themselves? How can they sleep at night?

On the other hand, Gladio and Prompto seem to be having a much better time of it. They're seated at a table across the room and are tearing through the bread basket. Prompto catches Noctis's eye at one point and his face brightens. He waves happily. Ignis waves back.

Ignis hums. "I suppose it hasn't been the smoothest dining experience for them so far, but hopefully, things will be less rocky from here on out," he remarks. "For example, wouldn't it be nice if a close friend of theirs happened to generously cover their bill as well?"

Noctis stops. He narrows his eyes.

"Since you've been so openly supportive of them so far," Ignis says pointedly.

Later, Noctis pulls out his card to pay for dinner for four, including two human beings who eat like catoblepas and one significant other who had insisted on sampling every other dish on the list of specials. He leaves a reluctant tip only when Ignis makes him.

"I'm going to tell my dad," Noctis says softly, staring at Ignis as he waits for the machine. He won't, but it's the principle of the matter.

Ignis smiles. "Come now. You don't have to buy my love, dear Noct," he says fondly. _But my silence will cost thirty grand, give or take._

Noctis is beginning to think there might be an easier way to do this.

He frowns. Well, whatever. He'll re-evaluate when he gets back to the whiteboard.

 


	7. DATE 6 [the aquarium]

DATE 6: THE AQUARIUM. FISH. GOOD.

So, yeah, Insomnia doesn't really have a proper zoo.

Noctis is man enough to admit that. The Crown City used to import all sorts of stuff from foreign nations and outlying territories, and they still do, strictly-regulated trade permits allowing; however, as good as Insomnia's engineering is, it's expensive enough to keep livestock in the city, let alone random animals and monsters purely for the public's viewing pleasure. The last time they'd had a real menagerie, it'd been a peace gift from a rival kingdom to their queen a century and a half ago. There was a bit of a mess with the enclosure, something had broken free, there'd been some sort of rampage in the streets, the palace had gotten broken into... Noctis remembers Ignis telling him that historians still aren't sure it wasn't an intentional act of sabotage. Anyway, they don't keep concentrated numbers of monsters in captivity within the city limits now. There's a bylaw.

However, if there's one thing Insomnia can be proud of, it's their godsdamn aquariums.

Because the Lucian royals fucking love their fish, and nothing, _nothing_ will take that away from them.

There are glowing fish. There are flanfish. There are coeurlfish. There are these long-ass floppy water-mushussu with speckled purple-and-red horns, and tiny ochu-chain tentacle monsters that sort of drift around and bite at the glass. There are shellfish, and fish shaped like stars, and fish that look like silver marbles with spikes glued to them. There are baby coraldevils that you may or may not be allowed to pet if an attendant is about. There are fish from corners of the continent that people can't visit anymore, because, you know, the Imperials, but here they are. There are even frogs, which Noctis will never admit he enjoys.

When he was a kid, Noctis would spend hours here. Literal hours, just staring into the big blue tanks. His minders thought he was just a little... _off,_ and they worried about whether he'd be able to find an appropriate stress-relieving coping mechanism once he grew out of visits to the aquarium. The joke was on them, because Noctis loved fish, and he never grew out of visits to the aquarium.

All this is to say that when Gladio and Prompto finally pick a day to visit the place, it's not like Noctis _had already been planning to go._

Hell no.

"You don't need me on this one," Ignis had said over the phone, an assertion rather than a question. He was as familiar with the aquarium as Noctis was, courtesy of being present for many, many of those early visits. There had been the sound of shuffling in the background; Ignis was clearly doing something else during this conversation, which Noctis could not understand. How could he be distracted _right now?_

"Specs, there's a new miniature karlabos exhibit," Noctis had said. "Why would you _not_ want to go?"

"I prefer my fish sauteed or steamed."

"Seafood after, then," Noctis had insisted. "My treat."

Ignis had paused. "Well, that seems rather callous," he'd muttered.

Noctis had spluttered. "I've seen you come up with new recipes while watching animals in their death throes. In front of their _families,"_ he'd said, and no, in fact, he'd never forgotten those training exercises.

Ignis hadn't seemed to acknowledge the horror of his own actions, and instead had shifted the phone closer to his mouth, as if he'd been previously holding it with his shoulder. "Noct, apologies, I'm rather busy," Ignis had said. "Another time?"

"Fine," Noctis had said, and been irritated that mobile phones couldn't be slammed down dramatically like people did in the movies. He was going to have a good time _anyway._

Looking out for Gladio and Prompto, he meant. A good time looking out for Gladio and Prompto.

\---

This is why he's actually floored when he gets there, rucksack over his shoulders and his most comfortable sandals on, to find Ignis loitering around the entrance with Prompto and Gladio.

The fuck?

They all look up at him as he approaches, his feet drifting over as if of their own volition, and Noctis's mind races through scenarios that range from _Ignis told them and now they're all here to kill me,_ to _I've been a shitty fake boyfriend and now Prompto and Gladio are here to kill me,_ to _Ignis is secretly dating both of them behind my back and they're here to break the news to me._ Which might kill him anyway. For the love of the Six, Noctis hopes it's not that last one. Not _again._

"I thought you were busy," Noctis says, injured, when he arrives.

Ignis has the grace to look _abashed,_ hands in his pockets, and Noctis immediately gets the sense that something is wrong.

Prompto kicks Ignis's heel in a manner that Noctis thinks is supposed to be surreptitious.

Ignis clears his throat. "It has been brought to my attention that I have not been putting as much time into our relationship as I could have been," he says dutifully.

Noctis blinks at the creature that's replaced Ignis.

"I care about you greatly, and would never wish for you to think that I take your companionship for granted," Ignis says, sounding somehow both heartfelt and rehearsed. Is this what all that public speaking training is supposed to do for a person? Shiva, Noctis had thought he'd gotten the hang of it when he stopped accidentally repeating himself after losing his spot in his notes. "My work is important to me, but you as a person are just as important to me, if not more so. Please accept my apologies. I should have known how important this was to you, and I sincerely want to be here with you today."

Noctis stares dumbly.

Behind Ignis, Prompto gives him an encouraging smile, looking proud as all hell. Gladio, who is sitting on the nearby bench with his elbows on his knees, glances up for Noctis's reaction.

Right. Noctis's reaction.

"Uh," he says. "Thanks, Specs." Is Specs an acceptable nickname for whatever Ignis is supposed to be? "Ig... nis. I, too, care about you." Noctis clears his throat. "I accept your apology."

They stand awkwardly in front of each other for a moment.

Ignis retrieves his hand from his pocket and sticks it out.

Noctis reaches out on instinct. He has a moment of crisis as he first tries to go for a fist-bump; his mind screams _no!_ and he quickly uncurls his fist for a high-five, and then a handshake instead. Then he draws his hand back. He reaches out again. He settles for lamely holding Ignis's hand in his, arm fully extended, like a handle on a door he's not sure whether he's supposed to push or pull.

Ignis gives him a _look,_ arm held out in front of him. Noctis flushes and scowls. _What's **that** supposed to mean? What the hell do you want from me? _

Prompto and Gladio, mercifully, don't seem to notice anything is amiss, which Noctis supposes says some horrifying things about his and Ignis's people skills. Prompto snaps his finger and raises an arm triumphantly.

"All right, guys, who wants to watch flanfish feeding time?"

\---

Gladio does, it turns out.

For an inordinately long amount of time. Something about watching the little blobs eat flakes of _whatever_ tossed into the tank by the attendant seems to mesmerize and awe him, and Prompto is reluctant to drag him away from his spot near the front.

Thus, it falls to Noctis to follow Prompto around as he tries to get photographs of every species in the aquarium. This seems to be a little bit of a finnicky task, what with the water and the glass and all, but Noctis lets Prompto babble on about light refraction and depth of field for about twelve seconds before he just tunes him out and nods every so often, putting out an _uh-huh._ Sure. Camera. Can't see stuff. Got it.

Ignis stays behind with Gladio, arms crossed and frowning. Noctis has a sneaking suspicion he's trying to figure out how to cook the fish.

"So," Noctis says, watching a bit of seaweed drift by at nose-height. It's been a while since he's hung out with Prompto alone, and he realizes he kinda misses it. "How are you and the big guy doing?"

Prompto leans back, adjusting the angle of his shot. "Aw, great, dude," he says, enthused. "You know how he's in charge of training one of the cadet classes? Like, not like teaching them to break people's arms or anything, it might be too early for that, they're like ten. But he's teaching them survival stuff?" Click. "So. Their moms are always giving him food to take home. I think they're hitting on him. He thinks it's kinda weird. But hey, more food for us, right? So right now we've got two crates of cakes, some sort of home-made wine, and just a _ton_ of granola bars, because granola's healthy, see..."

Somewhere circa the story about the kids and the flower crowns, and the library computers, and the pet bomboko, Noctis vaguely regrets asking. Not that he doesn't appreciate being kept up to date — that's why he's here, after all — but this is... a lot of information. It's more information about Gladio than he's ever gotten out of Gladio himself, really. Yeah, he talks with Gladio, but Prompto... _talks_ , when he cares about things. And he cares about a lot of things, but apparently he cares about Gladio a lot.

Prompto's starting on some story about Gladio scaring the daylights out of some guy on the train after he walked into Prompto when Noctis finally finds it in himself to interrupt.

"Sure, yeah, Prom," Noctis says, cutting off the story. "What about you?"

Prompto looks up from the viewfinder and blinks. "What about me?"

"You keep on talking about Gladio," Noctis says. A bombfish is bobbling around, sending a school of smaller fish darting away, and Noctis tries to focus on the conversation. "I was asking about both of you."

"Really? Man. I gotta stop doing that, I guess." Prompto huffs a laugh. He lowers his camera, sheepish. "We're probably super annoying, huh?"

Noctis forcibly rips his gaze away from the fish again. "What?" He's not going to deny that Prompto can be a bit much, but Noctis's annoyance-radar's been shot pretty much since he met Gladio and Prompto. And really, Prompto doesn't actually sound sorry at all.

"Iris says she probably knows more about me than my doctor does these days," Prompto says, glancing down at the screen.

Noctis is baffled for a second before it clicks. "Oh. 'Cause of Gladio?"

"Yeah. Which, you know, creepy. For her, I mean." Prompto presses a few buttons on the back of his camera. "Tee-em-ahye and all."

Noctis grimaces and tries to imagine Gladio going on and on about Prompto's daily routines, his shopping lists, his parking tickets, his customers at his part-time job... "Yeah. Just a bit."

"She thinks you're worried about us," Prompto says, continuing to review his last few shots.

Noctis takes a moment to process this.

Then the mortification seizes him. _That traitor!_ How dare she communicate with her loved ones about their valid feelings and concerns! He tries to hide it by staying perfectly still and willing himself not to redden. He isn't _worried,_ he's just — concerned. Invested. It's just — a lot. A lot of emotional investment at once, all right?

"I'm not worried," Noctis says, completely cool. It sounds a little bit more vehement than he'd intended. "About _anything."_ Maybe too much confidence there. Noctis tries to think of a way to dial it back subtly.

Prompto, unfazed, chooses not to address it. "Noct? Thanks." He smiles, scrubbing at the back of his head in mild embarrassment. "I might not have said it yet. But... I'm glad you've got my back." He glances up, blue eyes wide and earnest. "Ain't everybody's got someone looking after them like you do for us," he adds.

Oh.

That's the problem, see. As much as it gives Noctis warm feelings of satisfaction and pride to be trusted by two of the people he cares about most in the world enough to advise on their personal relationships, he's not really sure he _should_ be _._

He figures Gladio knows how to look after himself. If he doesn't, Iris is always there for the (alarmingly-efficient) clean-up. But Prompto? Noctis thinks about Cindy, and about Prompto's last four crushes before her, and about Gladio's entire sexual history that he knows of, and refrains from pointing out that he'd been there for that too. Not with Ignis as backup, no, but he'd been looking out for them during all that time. And here they are now. Seeing each other.

Noctis coughs. "Yeah, well..."

Prompto and Noctis's phones buzz at that moment.

It's from Ignis. Noctis swipes.

It's a blurry photo of Gladio happily standing in front of the tank with a bucket of fish food, watching the attendant demonstrate how to hold the flakes out properly.

"Hmm," Prompto says, squinting fondly.

"Huh." Noctis looks at it and tries to remember the last time Ignis was bored enough to send a photograph over group chat. It might have been of the skyline during a traffic jam on the west-side bridge, after which Ignis had gotten the single speeding ticket of his entire life. Or one of the latest romance novel in that popular series that Ignis hated so much, which had been followed by a photograph of the same book shredded in a trash bin. Or a picture of a furtively-spiked coffee during a six-hour-long council meeting, after which Ignis had bought an entire garula and set it on fire.

"Okay," Noctis says eventually, putting a stop to his train of thought. "Maybe we rescue Iggy now."

"Yep, sounds right."

\---

They rejoin Ignis and Gladio and do a swap: Prompto staying behind to heartily snap a photobook's worth of flanfish-feeding action shots, and Noctis dragging Ignis off to see the miniature karlabos he'd been promised. Ignis still looks kind of sour, but a little relieved anyway.

"What happened?" Noctis asks as soon as they're out of range. Around them, children run around and giggle, pressing their noses to the glass walls. "I thought you were gonna skip this one."

Ignis pushes his glasses up. He looks a little green in the light. "Precisely what you suspect," he says, tired. "Gladio was concerned that I was neglecting our relationship."

 _Well,_ Noctis thinks righteously, _that's what you get for dating his best friend._ "'Cause you didn't want to come on a double-date to the aquarium?"

"Gladio has apparently learned first-hand the importance of prioritizing personal relationships over one's duties when necessary, and is determined to share his hard-earned knowledge with me before I cause you undue distress."

Noctis imagines Gladio gravely sitting Ignis down for a Talk — _listen, Iggy, I get it training all the damn time no time to spend with the people who matter great way to ruin something good before you realize it so if you wanna do it right this time you gotta pay attention to the small things there's no shortcuts when you really care about stuff how does Noct feel about this why don't I —_ and he winces. Yeah, he can see that. "Wow."

"I'm grateful, of course," Ignis says. "I would never want any of you to think I undervalue what we have together."

"Damn straight," Noctis says. "I'm still picking up the admission fee, though."

"Naturally. Dinner as well, need I remind."

"Yeah, Specs, got it."

\---

Ignis and Noctis stare at the tiny, luminescent, wriggling segmented creatures swimming about. Noctis doesn't even try to hide his delight. Ignis doesn't even try to hide his morbid fascination.

"So," Noctis says. "About the story that someone flushed one of these down the toilet and it wound up eating three hunters in the Crestholm Channels?"

"These ones don't _grow,_ Noct," Ignis sighs. "That _is_ the point of them being miniature."

"So if I were to buy — "

_"No."_

\---

"Are those two trying to eat each other?"

"It could be a mating dance."

\---

It actually takes them a while to locate Gladio and Prompto again. The weekend at the aquarium is always busy, and with all the families and shrieking kids, it's easy to lose someone in the crowd — even a seven-foot tattooed asshole who looks like a gangster and a spastic yellow-haired parkour artist climbing the walls.

"I am continually amazed at how long some guests can spend in here," Ignis says as they wander out of the exhibits.

"See, Specs? It ain't only us." Ignis doesn't fool Noctis in the slightest; that baby albinogin had had him speechless for _at least half a minute._ Nobody thinks they aren't cute.

"I'm fairly certain few of these guests are regulars," Ignis says, miffed.

Noctis has no idea and he doesn't care. The place is full of strangers and regulars alike, and Noctis is glad to be somewhere he can blend in — where he can enjoy fish-watching in peace along with everybody else, where nobody recognizes him and he doesn't recognize anybody. Well, except for the staff. Noctis recognizes some of the staff. They wave at him when they see him.

They eventually funnel out towards the lobby, spotting Gladio's dark head of hair just outside the gift shop in the distance. Noctis slinks out reluctantly; he doesn't exactly want to go, but he supposes he can't well stay _overnight._

"Oh, come now," Ignis says, catching on to Noctis's dejection. "It will be here for future visits."

"I guess so," Noctis says, determined to hold Ignis to that, but falters before he can ask where Ignis wants to go for dinner.

They can see Prompto through the gift shop windows, flipping eagerly through an illustrated encyclopedia amongst the postcard stands. His camera is around his neck, and he seems to be debating purchasing a guide to match up with his photographs later. Gladio, done his shopping and trying not to crowd the other customers, is waiting patiently for him outside. Or he had been — he's talking to someone now.

Noctis frowns as they draw closer. Gladio's arms are crossed, his posture polite but wary. The other guy, a little shorter and better-dressed and about their age, is vaguely familiar to Noctis, but he's not sure how. Neither of them notice Noctis and Ignis approaching.

The other guy is speaking. " — just here with Seras, we thought we'd take her little sister out for the day. You know how it is," he's saying, hands in pockets.

"Sure," Gladio's saying, small smile.

"Been a while," the guy is saying. "You're looking good. I mean, you always did, but there's something different about you. You cleaned up a bit. I like it."

Right, wait, shit. Noctis scowls and dodges a passing group of schoolkids. He remembers now.

Gladio makes a noncommittal noise. "You too," he says. It sounds like he means it, but also like this conversation is chipping away at his soul slightly. Noctis can't blame him.

"How's the training?" the guy says. "You seen the rest of the group lately? At the dojo, I mean? Not, you know."

Ignis has to carefully yank Noctis out of the way of the next group of schoolkids to stop him from bowling them over. Noctis tries to elbow Ignis off; this is the time for _interference._ Before Prompto comes back. While the day's still salvageable. Come on, what's the point of _being_ here if not for this?

Too late. Prompto's bounding out of the shop.

Gladio glances up and uncrosses his arms, looking immeasurably relieved. "Hey. Got 'em?"

Prompto beams and holds up the shopping bag. "Mission accomplished! Wasn't sure which one I wanted, so I got both." He blinks at the third party. "Hey," he says.

"This is Prompto," Gladio says awkwardly, and Prompto gives a wave. "Prom, this is Tyl."

"Hey," Tyl says, smiling that easy asshole smile Noctis remembers. "Nice to meet you."

"Yeah, same," Prompto says brightly, sticking out his hand, and is soundly ignored as Tyl cranes his neck and seems to catch someone's else's eye over their shoulders. Prompto withdraws his hand.

"Well," Tyl says, pulling his phone out of his pocket. "Looks like it's time to go. Don't want to interrupt you two either."

"Oh," Prompto says. "Well, have a good one."

Tyl gives him a nod, and as Gladio tries to steer Prompto away, he speaks up a last time —

"Hey, brother," he says, directed to Prompto. "You dating him?"

Prompto perks up. "Yeah," he declares proudly, as Gladio attempts to tug him away by the elbow.

Tyl shakes his head genially. "Enjoy it while it lasts, man," he says, turning back to his phone. "That slut's gonna break your heart."

Noctis swears the world goes silent.

Prompto's voice drops thirty degrees in temperature when he opens his mouth again. "Excuse me?"

Gladio, stiff at his side, says, "Prom..."

Prompto shakes Gladio's hand off. "What did I just hear you say?" His voice sounds pleasant and tight. "It couldn't've been what I thought it was. Could it?"

Tyl shrugs. "Hey, I'm just warning you," he says, eyes still glued to his phone. "You seem nice enough. Didn't want you to be the sucker of the week." He turns to leave.

Prompto darts forward. "Oh, no, hang on. Wait a minute," he says. "Did I look like I was waiting for your opinion?"

Tyl looks down at Prompto's hand on his arm, dismissive, and says, "No, but you look like you could do better." Then he nods apologetically back towards Gladio. "Then again, pretty much everybody's given him a try, so I couldn't blame you if you wanted to join the club. Just make sure to get yourself — "

And then, as Noctis and Ignis and Gladio look on, Prompto pulls back and punches the guy right in the mouth.

\---

"I can't believe it. We got kicked out of the aquarium! Like, what? Were the fish going to be offended?" Prompto complains.

Prompto and Gladio are making their way down the tree-lined boulevard outside the building, sun setting behind them and casting long pink shadows. Neither of them seem to notice that Ignis and Noctis have followed them out, a dozen steps behind now, listening in just on the other side of the trees.

"Pretty sure it was because of the kids," Gladio points out, hanging back as Prompto strides ahead, still fuming.

"So there were kids around! So what? Isn't it the responsible thing to do, to teach the next generation not to be jerks?" Prompto stops and frowns. "Dude, I think I fucked up my hand."

Gladio sighs, exasperated. "Prompto..."

Prompto waves, agitated. "I mean, did you hear how he was talking about you? Who the hell did that guy think he was?"

"I heard, Prom."

"Like, what kind of... who even thinks... what a..." Prompto gestures wildly. He seems to be having trouble getting his words out.

"I know."

Prompto halts and looks back at Gladio.

The few cars driving by on the road are momentary flashes of illumination, headlights coming on to ward off the dusk. On the other side of the road, some teenagers are laughing, skateboards and sodas and lit-up phones. The gold haze of the clouds above paints everything with a last burst of warmth before the city skyline starts to glow with Insomnia nighttime proper, and in the breeze, everything seems to be in motion, except for the two of them, standing still on the white concrete walk.

Gladio's looking out into the middle distance, cheeks flushed. His mouth is in a tight line.

Noctis's heart sinks. Sure, okay, he'd been worried about the same thing, but this wasn't — that wasn't _called_ for. Whatever had happened — it'd been a long — anybody could _tell_ —

"You know I don't care, right?" Prompto says quietly, ducking.

In the fading sun, Gladio glances sharply at him. Noctis holds his breath.

"How many people you've been with," Prompto clarifies, still looking down. "Like, it's their loss, right? If you're not with them anymore."

Gladio's eyes soften. Noctis isn't sure he's ever seen Gladio look at anybody quite like that: fond, bewildered, horribly adoring.

There's a sigh.

"...Here, lemme look at it."

Prompto looks up again, and at Gladio's gesture, offers his hand for Gladio to take gently.

Noctis can't see either of their faces from where he is, but eventually, he hears Gladio speak.

"'Member, thumb on the outside next time. You got this. And it's a good thing you got gloves on, because..."

As Gladio and Prompto bow their heads together, Noctis feels a tug from behind, and is nearly taken off his feet as Ignis forcefully yanks him down the lane by his collar.

"Specs," Noctis hisses.

"We are _done here,_ " Ignis says.

Noctis wordlessly lets him drag them away.

 


	8. The Reassessment

Ignis drags Noctis all the way back to the Citadel.

He drags him up the front drive. He drags him through the gates. He drags him up the front steps, through the lobby and into the elevator, guards saluting uncomfortably all the way; he lets go of him while they go up in silence, and then grabs him again and drags him out once they arrive at the correct floor. He drags him all the way back to the Citadel library, ignoring the staff and the few other patrons. He drags him past the long tables, and the bookshelves, and the portraits of three centuries' worth of Royal Advisors, and only lets go of him once they're back in the glass-enclosed study room with the whiteboard where it'd all started.

"Okay, Specs, maybe calm down," Noctis says as he's deposited unceremoniously back into a chair. It's not like Ignis to manhandle on a whim, and he's not going to lie, this is scaring him slightly.

Ignis rounds the table and sets both hands down on it, palms flat, eyes intense. "We need to talk."

"Again?" Before Noctis can protest that _it's not a sex thing, Specs, come on,_ Ignis says —

"Noct, is this about your father?"

Noctis blinks.

"What?" he says, utterly bewildered.

Ignis seems tired and slightly embarrassed, faint color on his cheeks.

"Your father," Ignis says lamely. "His Majesty." He looks frustrated, like he's trying to find a way to have this conversation without tossing out the lifetime of formalities that's been bred into him. "The King."

"Yeah. Dad. Got it," Noctis says numbly, lacking the brainpower to try to figure out where Ignis is going with this. He tries to gracefully navigate the mental segue from _sex thing_ to _your father_. He fails. "What... what about him?"

Ignis flushes, but continues on resolutely. "I have been aware," he says, "that you were once rather fascinated with His Majesty's adventures during his youth. I recall that he used to tell you the tales as bedtime stories. He would re-enact parts of them for you at your bidding — "

Holy shit, _why?_ Of course Ignis knew, he knew _everything,_ but why bring it up? "I was like _five_ ," Noctis protests, face reddening. "That was — "

" — he would recount them for you in all their detail, even when you were old enough to recognize embellishments when you heard them." Ignis pushes his glasses up determinedly. "You repeated them to whomever you could find to listen. You never tired of talking about Young King Regis and his beloved allies, the Knights of the Realm."

Yeah, and he'd been reassured it was _cute._ He didn't expect it be used against him in an interrogation a decade and a half later. And what does this have to do with Prompto knocking Gladio's ex out in front of a dozen screaming schoolchildren while Ignis and Noctis had looked on? "Okay, I was a kid. What's your point?"

Ignis releases a drawn-out exhale. "Once, I was trying to read a book, and you insisted on regaling me with the story of the Crystal Thief for the umpteenth time." He looks faintly regretful. "I was short of temper. I picked a fight with you. I asked you: if your father and his friends had really done all that, where were they now?"

"Uh," Noctis says. He does sort of remember that now, come to think of it. He might've cried. It was only once, but Iggy wasn't the sort of kid who'd fucked around. "Wow, Specs. That's... kind of harsh."

Ignis looks weary. "I was also a child. But the point stands. And I can't help but observe that now, your closest friends are also those without the family that you yourself had been deprived of when you were young."

There's a moment of silence.

Okay, so this isn't something Noctis supposes would've escaped Ignis's notice. It's not something that's really escaped his _own_ notice, either, in the sort of absent-minded "yeah all my friends drink beer and suck at poker and sing trashy Galahdian pop in the car and have dead parents" way, but it's not something they _talk_ about. Noctis has made it this far in life without really having any sort of significant conversation about it. He's not sure what's changed now.

"I..." Noctis falters. "I don't..."

"I do not believe anybody would deny that you were cared for," Ignis says. "However, from an early age, all of you had learned to some degree that bonds of blood are not permanent. They are no guarantee of proximity, either emotional or physical." He allows Noctis a moment to absorb this, and continues on, patient. "Like yours, Gladio's mother died early on and left him alone with Iris. His father is as busy as yours, for obvious reasons. The majority of the people he grew up with were either his father's colleagues, his family's staff, or your father's staff. Prompto was adopted as an infant and has no knowledge of his biological family. His adoptive parents are kept away by work almost constantly, and he has no other relatives."

Well. When he puts it that way, yeah — but then, who doesn't have something complicated going on with their family? Noctis licks his lips. "And... and you?"

Ignis doesn't bat an eye. "I have all of you," he says.

Noctis shuts his mouth.

Ignis, seeing Noctis look somewhat chastised, is gentle when he speaks again.

"I understand how it is to have pulled together something of a family of your own," he says. "I know you would rather not hear it, but your father's closest friends have drifted from him over the years. You have been aware of this. And whether you know it or not, you seem to be afraid of the same happening to you."

Noctis swallows. "That's not it," he protests, even as something in him remembers the hollow sensation in his chest when he'd asked _so what happened to Mr. Weskham? When do I get to see Mr. Cid? Are you and Mr. Clarus still friends? Dad, are you gonna be at dinner tomorrow, when do I see you again, will you be back before you leave, sure, next time, dad. I'll remember._ What was it that Iris had said? About having faith in people?

Ignis's mouth thins. "At this point, I think it is abundantly clear that Gladio and Prompto are navigating this new territory in their relationship with admirable courage and grace," he says. "Whatever may come for them, it seems evident that they, and not you or I, are in the best position to handle it."

Noctis wants to argue, but honestly he can't. Prompto had said he was grateful earlier, but Noctis hadn't really done anything this whole time. He hasn't needed to do anything. Gladio and Prompto have managed just fine.

"We are growing up, Noct."

Noctis's heart sinks.

"We are all getting older. Our relationships may change with time."

He supposes this is where Ignis tells him he needs to get over it. That he needs to let go, and that people won't put up with him forever.

Which is fair, if he's going to be anything like his dad. Not that Regis Lucis Caelum is a _shitty person nobody can stand,_ but he's just... busy. He's always busy. There's always something important going on with him. He has to make a lot of decisions, and people don't always agree with him, and he doesn't _mean_ to push people away. That's just how things are with him.

Noctis doesn't want that. But then what's he supposed to do? He's _trying,_ godsdamnit.

"But," Ignis says, "You must believe me when I say that Gladio and Prompto are not the sort to abandon you unless you force their hand."

Noctis glances up.

There's a pause.

Ignis speaks again, dignified. "You matter to them. Far too much."

Ignis says it like he's talking about a dish containing far too much salt, or a mobile gaming app using far too much data, or reality television show contestants having far too much time on their hands. Matter-of-fact and plain. Noctis doesn't really know about that. He's tempted to point out the vast amounts of shit he's pulled, even recently. Fine, yeah, even up to this very day.

But then Ignis looks up at Noctis, eyes fixed and steady and serious, as if what he's about to say is utterly crucial to a decision Noctis is about to make, and —

"You have to trust them, Noct," he says. "Trust us."

With that, Ignis finally falls silent.

\---

Noctis doesn't think Regis was an _asshole._ So what'd happened?

He'll probably never know, really.

He likes to think that in a universe somewhere, his dad and friends never grew up — that they're still having adventures out there, stories they might _one day_ tell their kids about, Young King Regis and the Knights of the Realm, roaming the land forever, doing their stupid action poses and yelling stupid one-liners in the heat of battles that they'll never lose.

On the other hand, he's kind of glad that he, you know, exists. And that he knows Ignis, and Gladio, and Prompto, and that they do their own stupid action poses and yell their own stupid one-liners now. Maybe they've all got their problems, and maybe some of those are problems their parents gave them, but so what? They're all still here, and that's probably the more important battle, right?

If they'd all had whatever people thought were normal families growing up, would things have been different?

(He recalls being twelve and drawing whiskers on a napping Ignis's face and waking up the next day with the corners of his sheets tied securely to the bedposts. He recalls being fourteen, and reaching into the fridge for soda during a game, and finding a six-pack of cans of vegetable juice. He recalls "Specs that's _not_ a fair bet you _never_ lose this one," he recalls "Your Highness, put down that lamp, _Noct_ I _swear_ to the gods," he recalls)

Noctis wonders briefly whether his dad just didn't have an Ignis.

That might explain a lot.

\---

Hell. Fuck.

Ramuh's balls.

"Gimme a break, Iggy." Noctis clears his throat, which is suddenly thick. "Like I could get rid of you all if I tried."

Ignis looks surprised.

Then he lets out a breath and huffs out a small laugh — a rare, genuine chuckle. He catches Noctis's eye.

"The Astrals know, you do try," he says.

\---

At this particular, not-exceedingly-opportune moment, they are interrupted by a knock on the glass.

Ignis looks up. Noctis swivels around in his chair just in time for the door to click open.

An uncomfortable-looking man in Crownsguard attire occupies the doorway. Behind him, passing patrons continue to mill about the bookshelves, throwing over the occasional curious glance or two. The officer ignores this, focusing instead on the room's two occupants.

"Officer Fortis," the man says, touching his forehead. He's a bit pink-faced, but doesn't give off any other outward indication that he knows who he's speaking to. "We're responding to, uh..." he shifts from one foot to the other, "alerts that someone has been... using this library room to plan a homicide."

Noctis and Ignis look at each other.

They turn to look at the whiteboard.

It is covered in angry red marker: circles and lines and half-legible block-lettered words, such as "MURDER" and "DATING" and "FOLLOW CLOSE BEHIND — IN THE BUSHES?? BUY FAKE MUSTACHE" and "HEARTBREAK!!!" underlined three times. There is a map and several newspaper clippings pinned to it. Multiple bulleted items on a "TO ACQUIRE" list on the side are crossed out with the editorial note: "ILLEGAL."

"Oh." Noctis blinks. "Okay, I can see how this might look." Maybe they should've done something about the whiteboard when they weren't using the room. He moves to sit up straight. "Officer, uh. Listen. It's fine. We're just... I mean, we... it's, uh..."  

The officer looks between the two of them. Noctis thinks desperately, and then opens his mouth bravely just as Ignis speaks.

"We're plotting a novel," Ignis says.

"It's a roleplay thing," Noctis says at the same time.

Ignis turns to stare at him.

The officer coughs and nods. "That's what I thought." He scratches his head, apologetic. "I have to inform you that the library is a public space, you understand."

Noctis can feel Ignis's glare starting to burn into the side of his head. "Yes, officer. We understand," he says weakly.

"Good. You boys have fun." The officer clears his throat. "Not too much fun. A... moderate amount."

He salutes and shuts the door behind him.

There's an icy silence.

Noctis swivels back around. Ignis is still standing on the other side of the table, hands braced on the surface, staring blankly at the door.

After a moment, Noctis snags a marker off the table and waves it cautiously in front of Ignis's face.

No movement. The silence continues.

Noctis winces. Yeah, he's going to be paying for this one.

 


	9. DATE XV [6 months later]

DATE XV: 6 MONTHS LATER.

 

From his spot flat on the bed, Noctis reflects faintly that sometimes, being blackmailed isn't so bad.

The ceiling above him is... well, it's probably paneled with beautiful glossy oak, hung with small chandelier-style lights that spread a warm, diffuse glow across the elegant cream-and-bronze wallpaper.

He can't see it, as it is mostly obscured by the fucking canopy. The bed has a canopy. It's heavy gold silk and fringed with tasselling. It hangs down on either side of the solid, enormous bed with the oak headboard, cream satin sheets, gold-embroidered velvet coverlet and massive downy pillows, flanked by vases of fresh-cut white roses on either nightstand. To the right, exotic spotted plants sit on the wood-tiled floor in ornate urns under a lovely framed painting of the misty valleys of Tenebrae. To the left, a set of wide bay windows open up to a lavish terrace overlooking the flat, sparkling ocean beyond: deep sapphire-blue and endless, underneath the cloudless violet sky.

Noctis sucks a breath of fresh seaside air. He exhales slowly.

"I can't believe," he says, "you've conned me into paying for a honeymoon in Altissia."

Over on the chaise-longue in the attached sitting area, Ignis turns a page in his notebook next to the lamp, his legs crossed. "It's just a getaway, Noct," he says idly. "We aren't married."

Noctis levers himself up just a tad to look at Ignis. "We aren't even _dating,_ " he protests softly. He is ignored.

Gladio and Prompto are likely similarly ensconced in a suite far, far away on the other side of the hotel. Noctis has been informed that their room is, somehow, even more extravagant. They're probably enjoying the hell out of the amenities right now. Or each other. Noctis doesn't really need the specifics.

Or maybe they're still out on the gondolas — Noctis hopes they haven't commandeered one for a joyride, but cannot actually confirm either way — or losing all their gil while yelling at the creatures at the Totomostro stadium. Or, if they're anything like Noctis, on their fifth drinks after getting wildly lost in the bowels of the sprawling city and calling it quits outside an excessively fancy bar.

On Noctis's tab, of course.

("Think of it as making amends," Ignis had said. Noctis had wanted to point out that he hadn't done anything that could warrant an apology by the way of a week-long four-person getaway to the most expensive city in Accordo, but assumed he'd be paying for things until Ignis deemed him to be _out of debt_ otherwise anyhow, and so had kept his mouth shut.

Prompto and Gladio hadn't seemed sure _what_ Noctis was apologizing for, exactly, but had been happy to accept it without question anyway.)

Altissia admittedly wouldn't have been Noctis's first choice of a place to holiday, but everybody does seem to be having fun. Even in the off-season, there's a festive air to the place, boulevards lined with flowers and musicians outside the cafes. Little alcoves with benches and stone fountains are scattered about the city, half-hidden by ivy and full of couples necking. There's a view from every balcony. Everything seems geared for pleasure.

They hadn't come here with any real plans, relaxing aside; Iris's martial arts trainer, a woman named Crowe, knew someone at a spa and had managed to score them all what Gladio happily called 'the most violent fucking massages known to humanity.' Noctis, who would rather peel his own skin off with a plastic fork, had decided to not. But that meant trying to figure out what else he'd rather do, and he's not totally sure, despite the plethora of options.

There are the clubs, but going clubbing alone on your honeymoon is probably a bad look. Theatre's not really his thing, and gambling's not all that great with nobody to brag to. He's not sightseeing by himself; Prompto'd kill him. He supposes there's always shopping.

His dad's old friend Weskham is apparently somewhere around, and Ignis had gently suggested that maybe, maybe, Noctis could catch up with him and get a story or two out of the man. For old times' sake.

Noctis isn't sure how he feels about that. But he has the address of the bar on a slip of paper in his pocket, and if there's nothing else to do, he might drop by.

As Noctis wonders how long he could get away with fishing in the canals before he'd get arrested, his phone buzzes on the nightstand.

Ignis's does as well. Ignis looks at it immediately. "Hmm," he says, and checks his watch.

Noctis levers himself up on an elbow again, affronted. "Are you doing work?" Ignis could've done work at _home,_ he's just saying _._

"Of course not," Ignis says. He lifts his notebook. "I'm merely going over our itinerary. We have four and a half hours until we're to meet Prompto and Gladio for the party at the Rosso tonight. Allowing half an hour for travel time, that leaves us with three hours to kill."

Noctis tries to figure out where the extra hour went, but Ignis just sort of avoids his gaze, and Noctis gets the feeling it's a _half an hour to get dressed to the nines, and half an hour for me to fix whatever you might've managed to do to yourself while getting dressed to the nines_ sort of deal. He hates that this is probably the right decision. He flops back onto the pillows.

"Remind me to break up with you when we get back," he mumbles without feeling.

"I'll schedule it in," Ignis says. He shuts his notebook and unfolds his legs, standing. "Now, there are nine prominent dining establishments I hope to visit while we're here. You'll stay out of trouble while I'm away?"

Noctis thinks about his fishing gear. "Mm," he says evasively.

As Ignis reaches for his blazer, Noctis snakes out his hand and feels for his phone. He slides it off the nightstand, holds it above him, and presses the button.

On the screen are three message notifications from Prompto and one from Gladio. He squints.

Prompto's first message: "PORTRAIT PAINTING. GETTING OURS DONE!" There is a slew of emojis afterwards, some of which Noctis's phone doesn't recognize.

The next is an image of a freshly-painted canvas: a Gladio-shaped figure carrying a Prompto-shaped figure in its arms bridal-style away down the street, their noses touching.

The third is another image of another canvas: the Prompto figure standing in a heroic pose, one hand thrust towards the sky; the Gladio figure, shirt half-falling off, clinging to the Prompto figure's leg and swooning like a romance novel heroine.

Noctis flicks ahead to Gladio's message. It's also just a picture of a canvas: the Gladio figure and the Prompto figure holding hands, a little heart between them.

Noctis heaves a great sigh and rolls over off the bed, landing in a reluctant crouch. He pauses a moment, then grimaces and toes his suitcase open, looking for a damned silk shirt.

Ignis stills in the middle of tugging on his gloves, mildly surprised. "You're coming?"

Noctis ducks, rummaging. "Well, you can't go alone." He scowls. "Someone might think that I, you know, stood you up or something." He can't believe this.

Ignis finishes dressing, and sighs in a manner that Noctis thinks doesn't sound remotely rueful at all. He smiles at Noctis and crosses his arms, leaning against the back of the couch. 

He glances outside at the darkening sky, star-strewn at the edges.

"I suppose I can't," he says.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> (Fact: The guys have now been kicked out of almost every date spot in Insomnia, and have moved off-continent to continue their streak. 
> 
> Noctis and Ignis have also been trying to find a way to break it off for months. One of them will have to do it at some point. Right? 
> 
> _Right?_ )
> 
> We're here! Thank y'all so much for reading this bit of silliness with the boys. I love every one of ya. <3
> 
> Comment or kudos (or stop by to chat) to make my day! [mushydesserts.tumblr.com](https://mushydesserts.tumblr.com/) :)


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